A new day began with the retreat of Silence.
Soldiers in Himmfast visited the hos of every registered infant, though the outco was often clear before they even knocked on the door.
Silence from within ant the family had been spared. A baby's cry, however, announced another loss.
The rule wasn't foolproof, but it held true in most cases.
Infants taken by Silence were buried at the Himmfast cathedral. The priests had set aside a special plot for them in the northwest corner of the cetery.
The plot was nicknad "The Repose." Locals claid to sotis hear the laughter of children there. Exorcists investigated the rumors, but found nothing.
—They haven't left us; they've only taken a different form. We all rember these precious lives...—a priest and a nun said, leading a joint prayer before more than twenty weeping couples.
The funerals had grown less frequent. Not because anyone had found a way to save the children, but because there were simply fewer infants left.
Just a week earlier, the cetery had been filled with grieving parents. A cold drizzle fell from the sky, as if the heavens themselves wept for the loss.
—How many are left?—a tallic voice echoed from beneath a helt by the cetery fence.
—Fewer than two hundred,—another soldier replied.
—That's impossible... Himmfast has a population of hundreds of thousands.
—But it's true. I overheard a conversation at city hall this morning.—His chilling sigh was muffled by his helt.—Would you believe it? They spoke of it with... with relief. They were happy there were still over a hundred left.
—That's...—the soldier's voice trailed off, thick and strained.—My wife... she's five months pregnant.
—That's terrible...—The other soldier clapped his comrade on the shoulder, the tal of their armor clanking.—The scientists will figure sothing out. They have to find a way.
...
—And this is your solution?!—In the deputy mayor's office, O'Connor stared at the scientists with a scornful sneer.—To dose infants with adult-strength anesthetics every ti Silence approaches?
As if that single question wasn't enough, O'Connor slamd his fist on the desk. —I'm a politician, but even I can see the damage this will do to those babies!
Professor Jason, a dical expert from Poseidon University, sighed. —We have no other choice. Nothing besides anesthesia can put an infant to sleep within seconds for the required fifteen minutes.
—Then find another way!—O'Connor yelled. It was an unreasonable demand, but that's what politicians were for.
The scientists looked at one another. Jason spoke again. —There is... another option. But it's one society is unlikely to accept...
—Why you...—O'Connor cut himself short, swallowing his anger.—Speak.
—The exorcists have proposed using... the power of an Anomaly to induce sleep.
It wasn't just a matter of public acceptance—if this had been suggested at the height of the anti-Anomaly fervor, an angry mob might have stord the exorcists' headquarters. But now, after so much grief, would people be desperate enough to agree? Still, turning to an Anomaly was a last resort.
—...Are there other solutions? In other cities?
A scientist nad Herbert Nagy replied, —It's the sa in other cities... In so places, they're even trying to smother the infants... Forgive , but that is far more dangerous. Anesthetics may put them into a permanent sleep or cause brain damage, but at least...
O'Connor waved a dismissive hand, cutting him off, and ordered his assistant to summon the exorcists.
—You're actually considering it?—Professor Jason couldn't help but ask.
—And why not?—The deputy mayor, usually so harsh, softened his tone.—We aren't the ones who've lost children. It's not our place to stop these parents from saving their own. By the way...—he stopped his assistant.—Inform the nobility. Even the cowards might show so interest.
It was a calculated move to weaken any opposition to his decision. In reality, Silence claid far more adults than infants—unlucky souls who made a sound at the wrong mont and vanished without a trace. But the infants ant more. They were a symbol of hope. The world was already bleak; they couldn't afford to lose the last glimr of it.
...
The next day, Anna went down to the basent.
—I hope you have an answer for .—Selika Daler, having settled in, was no longer afraid of Anna.
Anna nodded. A night of contemplation and reading had yielded an answer. —I want to touch him.
—That's the only reason?
—That's the only reason.
—I'm a vengeful spirit,—Anna explained to the bewildered Selika.—I don't have a body, no sense of touch. My emotions are like a dried-up spring. Possession is the only way I can feel anything, even if it's just for a little while.
—So that's why you possess ...—Selika Daler's eyes widened in understanding. She finally saw why Anna wanted to lure her beloved out of the shelter.—Having those feelings again fans the flas of your passion... right?
Anna nodded.
—There might be a simpler way...—Selika Daler said, giving Anna a asuring look.—Why not take
with you? That way, he wouldn't have to risk...
Her voice died in her throat. An icy chill constricted around Selika, as if she had plunged into frozen water, the air stolen from her lungs. Anna, who had witnessed lies and betrayal through a hundred lifetis, regarded her without a shred of rcy. She couldn't allow Selika at Watcher's Cliff. Remi might beco suspicious. Besides, a new resident would be a threat—Anna couldn't control her constantly.
—I was only... trying to help...—Selika whispered, the words a struggle to form.
—Then don't make any plans concerning that place,—Anna's icy tone permitted no argunt. She eased the pressure.
Selika gasped, pulling a blanket tighter around herself, but she couldn't stop shivering. She didn't bring up the subject again. —Do you have another plan?
—Yes,—Anna replied.—I do.
Reviews
All reviews (0)